Tunaak: Chronicles
by silverwell
Summary: A Draenei's life on Azeroth as he gains and looses close friends, loves and looses, and tries to find the strength to keep going. This series is based on actual in-game RP. Events may vary slightly as needed. I love R&Rs. Considered Complete as is.
1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:** This entire collection of pieces are spinned off of the in-game RP. Things are changed and altered accordingly or if deemed necessary. Events that take more than two chapters will be posted separately, and a little note like this one will be put on appropriate chapters.

Please R&R... It gives me sustenance. To live. Yes, it does. =D

* * *

It was the first night I met Civardi and Keda, shortly after the news of my twin brother's death. My twin, I thought him dead since we crashed on Azuremyst. I feared him lost the day we crashed as he had been injured terribly from a Blood Elf. He was found, however, by a priest.  
It wasn't until the day he died that I learned how he perished. For ten long years, he had suffered a poison that slowly ate him from the inside. He had been the one who brought Mattis the Cruel to justice, but in the process of subduing the murderer, my twin had been struck with a poisoned blade.  
It was his final moments, laying on one of the beds at the Exodar's inn that I had finally learned my twin survived, and lay at his final moments alive. Losing him once, I could not have felt any lonelier. Losing him again, my mind retreated in the anguish that ensued.

The Light retreated with my mind, ignoring my pleas of returning my twin to me. The Light was a brick wall behind a locked door, stubborn and unmoving. The Light would not answer, every attempt to break the wall and lock in vain.

That night I met Civardi and Keda… I had already been at the Pig, drinking from the Totem gifted to me by a Water Spirit. It never emptied, always filled with a rather potent drink. Civardi, I consider him a brother now, had entered the bar while I was half-way through my second mug. The night has always been a haze in my mind, but I think I recall what had transpired…

We were both terribly drunk by the time Keda came. How many mugs either of us had, I will never be able to recollect. Civardi had gotten up to leave for the night, but his legs quivered violently before he buckled to the carpet sprawled under the table. In a drunken surprise, I rose to my hooves to aide him, but far too quickly!  
I quickly found myself on the floor, looking over to Keda who had been taken with me by my shoulder. Regret overwhelmed my eyes as her initial wild shock of nearly being squished by a large Draenei subsided, revealing a pang of pity for the one who had taken her down.

"Oh, sweetie, are you alright…?" her gentle voice chimed in my ears.  
With a groan, I rolled to my side, releasing her from my shoulder. She rose to her knees, a few strands of hair had escaped her hairband as she glanced over to the Night Elf that had fallen before me. He held his head up, looking at us blearily, asking if we were alright.

As he managed to crawl to me, Keda lay a gentle hand on the side of my head, ruffling my hair slightly. Her other hand began rubbing Civardi's ear as a hand stroked down my head spikes and through my hair. She told us not to get up too fast, to rest off some of the drinks we indulged.  
I happily obliged.

My tail managed to get pinned between my legs, but I had barely noticed from the near mind numbing amount of alcohol I consumed. Keda tugged my tail free after it had squirmed in vain attempts to be freed. I curled my legs up some as my tail plopped on the wooden floor of the Pig.  
With less control over my tail when drunk, it curled at one point, attempting to wrap around Keda's rump. She yelped in surprise, jumping back as she jolted my head and shoulders in the swift motion. As she caught her breath, I groaned, reaching a hand to my face.

She apologized nervously, settling back down to stroke Civardi's ear and run her fingers through my hair again.  
A few hours passed, and both of us drunks finally felt just well enough to sit up. Civardi looked like he had thoroughly enjoyed the ear attention with the large grin, still drunken grin on his face. With the aid of a water spirit, I brought out a totem that had helped us begin feeling better. The totem pulsed, offering a comforting radiance that soothed our minds and bodies.

I still quivered, and even all four of my chin appendages shivered slightly. My body ached in response to sitting up, but I pushed it up regardless. Keda grabbed both my hands, her soft eyes locked with mine. She smiled warmly, speaking her relief that she was happy to see us up.  
Civardi curled over his knees, hugging his legs and trying to stay sitting up. He groaned, and I did not doubt his own head throbbed and pulsed with the feeling of being struck with a blacksmith's hammer while on an anvil.

In a few more moments, Civardi rose to his feet. He wobbled, legs threatening to buckle beneath him again, but he managed. Announcing he had somewhere else to be, he left. I didn't know where or why, I never asked and he never explained.  
Keda gently squeezed my hands, her Human hands so very small in mine. Looking back up at her, she insisted that I try to stand. I didn't want to fall on top of her again, but I knew she was right. I couldn't just sit there in the middle of the tavern floor all night. We were fortunate that night the Pig wasn't busy, as there would have been plenty of patrons stepping or tripping over us.

Slowly rising, I grabbed a hold of the chair I had previously occupied for balance. As my tail drooped, bobbing at its own will, my hooves made purchase on the floor and pushed me up. Keda had a hold of my arm, wrapping hers around my bicep and holding the arm close to her. Her attempt to help hold me up was in vain, as if I had tried to use her as a crutch, we both would have toppled back to the floor.  
In the moment I still held the chair for support, I looked down at her. She smiled warmly again, reassuringly. I couldn't help but return the smile, feeling as if something deep within my chest had pulsed or moved.  
Having been drinking before Civardi arrived, my legs still quivered, barely able to bear my weight. The first few steps were tedious, hesitant… But I managed. Somehow.

The first couple of corners we rounded in that large city seemed very long. I paused, Keda still with her arms wrapped around mine, and leaned against the stone wall. She looked up at me with her soft eyes, smiling warmly, and asked if I was alright.  
I nodded, my chin appendages splaying slightly over my shirt. This motion made her giggle, and I could only chuckle softly in response.

Stepping up onto one of the bridges that crossed the canal, I misjudged my step. Taking a hard dive, I twisted as best I could to prevent Keda from taking an equally hard fall. Three of my chin appendages began throbbing as I pushed my chest up and looked down at Keda.  
I had wrapped my arm around her, to try and protect her. For the most part, that had succeeded. I couldn't stop her waist or legs taking some hit, but at least she didn't get hurt.  
She gasped softly, eyes glistening with concern as she looked down at me. I reassured her I was alright, pushing myself to sit up. Her hands clasped around my forearm, offering an encouraging squeeze.

Her beautiful, warm smile never left her face.

The rest of the walk to the inn was uneventful, save for the occasional pause to lean against something and catch my breath. At the inn, heading up the stairs proved almost too much for my still quivering legs. But I managed… with Keda's gentle encouraging reassurance and her arms wrapped around one of mine.  
At the door to my rented room, I turned to her, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you…" I sighed softly, squeezing her shoulder gently.

"You are welcome, sir," she nodded, whole-heartedly smiling warmly.

"Tunaak." She tilted her head, and I explained, "I am Tunaak…"

"'Tunaak'," she spoke my name, trying it over her tongue. "I'm Keda."  
Was this it, then…?

"Tomorrow?" Keda asked. When I only gave her a quizzical look, she continued, "I will be at the Blue Recluse for lunch tomorrow."  
My eyes softened, radiating with warmth that hadn't blessed my eyes for a very long time. Whether or not she chose to take response, she smiled her beautiful and warm smile. She turned and left, leaving me to lean on the doorframe. I am still unsure if I was able to follow her, if I had chosen to.

I entered my room…  
Slipped under the covers…  
And for the first time since my brother died…  
I cried…


	2. Letter From Seryanna

**Author's Note:** I posted a short biography on my Night Elf Druid, Rose. It hopefully explains how/why she knows a couple of Draenei for several decades without butchering the lore.

* * *

Tunaak,

I can't tell you how very, very sorry I am for the other night. I saw it on your face. After I started to recover from Northrend, the first thing that came back were tears… for you. I can't believe I did that to you… I can't believe I was capable. I might as well have come back a Death Knight like they wanted to make me.

I was ashamed of what I could become… You're like a rock to me, the one stable thing in my life. And because of that, I do love you.  
But I realize that I can't be what you need or deserve. If I'm capable of that, I'm not fit for anyone yet until I figure out just what happened to me up there. You deserve far better… As I've told you many times.

But I'll always be here, as I promised. I don't break promises, I won't die on you, and I'll be next to you when you need me, as you've been for me. You deserve nothing less.

Seryanna

_Sery… How I miss you, my beloved sister. How there is so much to tell you, too…_  
Tunaak's mind went back to the day Seryanna, a promising mage of Stormwind, was kidnapped. She had been dragged to Northrend to be made a Death Knight by the order of a high ranking monster of the Lich King's masses. That was long ago, and Tunaak has only seen her so precious few times since.  
Scanning the snowy landscape outside the keep, soldiers kept their desperate pace with the Nerubians, the giant, monstrous undead spiders. The lines faltered briefly every now and then, and with a desperate assault that threatened to buckle another small regimen, the lines barely held.

The large Draenei recalled well how he had tried to follow Seryanna in a desperate, vain attempt to find her. He was inexperienced, under equipped for the journey… Had it not been for Rosie, a powerful Druid and fond sister to Tunaak, he would have perished very quickly. She barely made it in time, too, as Tunaak had been caught off guard by a Nerubian.  
Badly wounded, and barely conscious, he had dragged himself a few yards from the monsters corpse only to completely lose the last of his strength. Collapsing to the freezing, half frozen mud, it felt like an eternity passed before Rosie nuzzled his cheek. The soft nose of her feline form's maw was a very warm welcome to the rest of the evil tundra.

_I am not the one whom deserves better… It is you…_  
Melting into her bear form, Rosie nuzzled up next to Tunaak, offering her soft fur as a comforting and warm blanket. There, she had guarded him over the night, moving only when absolutely necessary to strike down a Nerubian.  
But Tunaak wasn't without the need for his own wounds to be tended to. Rosie frequently nuzzled Tunaak with a nose that glowed a soothing green.

Finding his way beyond the two warring parties, Tunaak made his way up a slope and turned to view the battle from the Nerubian side. His gaze traced the three giant insects that had fallen before his ax, and yet he made it passed them barely scathed.  
Perhaps… If he had been just as skilled back then, would things have been different?  
Tunaak shook such thoughts from his head. He has Keda now. Keda, their expecting child, and two beautiful adopted daughters. A warm smile spread on the large Draenei's face, recalling some of the more precious moments they spent together as he hefted his ax on his shoulder.

_Perhaps there could have been something… Perhaps it was never meant to be at all._  
Tunaak rolled his shoulders as his tail whisked behind him. He turned and faced the rest of Northrend, taking a deep breath of the chilling air. The love he held for his family, the touch of both his adopted daughters… and the woman who had captivated both his twin hearts seemed to fend off the freezing tundra's chill very well.  
Only one of his hearts had been with Seryanna, and that, Tunaak concluded, was the reason they were never meant to be. He had lost a very close she-Human friend shortly before meeting her. Tunaak had been convinced it was Seryanna he'd fallen in love with, but it was only a similar love he had for the lost friend. With the death of his twin shortly after that, he had nearly lost himself to madness, drinking his nights away recklessly.  
After all, if only one heart was with it, only half the Draenei was with it.

A large storm crow squawked loudly overhead, announcing her presence. Though Rosie had been watching her brother carefully since his departure from Stormwind, she trusted him fully. More than ever, in the many decades she knew Tunaak, she knew he was able to take care of himself on this alien world.  
Tunaak raised his gaze to eye the crow, giving her a warm smile. He knew she could see his smile, the storm crow's eyes could see anything and everything from the sky. He smiled nonetheless, grateful for her presence, and ever more for letting him be on his own.


	3. Alive

**Author's Note: **There is a seven part story that happens about two weeks after this one. It is up on my list of stories as "Twin Rebirth."

* * *

Tunaak stood to stretch his sore legs, flexing his tail behind him as his body ached all over from the day before. The plate chestpiece , greaves and pauldrons creaked around his body in a quiet defiant chorus against the movement. The head of his large, ever-trusty ax rested on the wood floor, hilt propped against the edge of the table between Tunaak and the wall. The Pig 'n' Whistle tavern in Stormwind's Old Town district wasn't too busy that night. Suitable for the large Draenei, as he wasn't in the mood to stick out in the crowd. It proved difficult to do, however, as he was only one of two Draenei in the tavern, the rest of the numerous patrons being a few Kaldorei, a handful of Gnomes, and a good number of Dwarves and Humans.  
Ignoring the rest of the tavern, Tunaak settled back down on his chair, having to adjust his rump in the seat meant more for those without a writhing appendage. Finally finding his previous, albeit slightly uncomfortable position, his tail curled around his waist and over his lap. Elly the Barmaid, a decent looking Human before Tunaak's eyes, came around to refill his mug of sweet nectar. She seemed ragged, having been swiftly roving the tavern trying to keep the patrons content. A few barked to her rudely, most drunk, yelling for another drink. She passed Tunaak's table quickly, the stoic Draenei being the only occupant. The two other seats remained empty, but Tunaak took pleasure in a moment of loneliness now and then in spite of being surrounded by all the other patrons.

A distinct voice that spoke his name caught Tunaak's ears. He perked slightly, looking up as a beautiful Kaldorei Priestess spoke in her gentle and serene voice, "Hello, Tunaak."  
She beamed warmly, approaching Tunaak's table. To Tunaak's curiosity, she seemed to glow a little more this day. Perhaps it was the Priestess' training that caused this, the Mother Moon Elune's gentle glow that radiated almost unnoticeably from her.

Nodding sagely, Tunaak smiled to her, "Welcome, Wynn. Will you join me?" His two chin appendages dangling from the back of his jaw splayed slightly in the motion as the two in front gently slipped over the red chestpiece.  
Civardi, the Kaldorei that Tunaak considered a close brother, was a lucky man to have such a wonderful woman to wed. The Draenei would even admit to being a little jealous if he wasn't already taken.

Just as Wynn claimed one of the empty seats, Tunaak's eyes met a young human woman covered in bruises, and bruises on top of bruises. She stood near the entrance on the ground floor, at the railing and looking out at the patrons with a smug grin. Wynn eyed Tunaak briefly before craning her head to follow his gaze. She eyed the human carefully. Though it was one of the duties of a Priestess to heal and tend to the wounded, not every wound need be healed.  
Before Wynn could act, Tunaak stood to his hooves, body aching and wracking defiantly to disobey. He pulled out a few coins for the drinks, placing them neatly on the table. With an apologetic look to Wynn for the abrupt departure, he hefted his ax on the hook at his back, and strode casually down the stairs. The Priestess tilted her head curiously at him, standing and following.

Stepping up to the railing, the young woman leaned on the railing, letting her cleavage show shamelessly. Bruises new and old dotted her fine, smooth skin, mostly from unrecognizable blows. Many looked painful, but with so many, they nonetheless all had to hurt.  
Though not a healer, Tunaak could still wield the Light with enough ease and efficiency to mend cuts, seal wounds, and ease bruises.

Tunaak nodded politely to the human as Wynn casually lingered at the end of the stairs. Elly and a few wandering patrons passed between Wynn and Tunaak occasionally, but not so many that would disturb what would transpire.  
The human smiled, still very smug. She peered at Tunaak, eyed him judgingly, and warmed her smile to the Draenei. She adjusted so that his eyes could easily slip downwards to adore the cleavage that seemed to nearly pop out of her shirt, but he didn't waver his gaze from her eyes.

"Miss, do you need healing," Tunaak offered the woman, raising a gauntleted hand over his chest as an act of genuine compassion. His face remained relaxed, letting no emotion escape his features or gently glowing cyan eyes.

Smirking and smacking her tongue against her teeth, she replied contently, "Ah, a healer are we? Sure, sugar. Though I'd prob'ly get a new beating for it anyway."  
Tunaak blinked at her, trying not to show his annoyance. So that's what caused the bruises. She was beaten.  
Grasping his right gauntlet in his left hand, he removed it. He took a breath, and releasing it slowly, the Light flickered and danced about on his exposed hand. The Light was a stark contrast to his dark skin. He gently laid the hand over one of hers, and concentrated the Light to heal her bruised skin. His eyes flickered golden briefly, and was finished in a moment.

The woman didn't move. She remained where she was, cleavage exposed as the smug smile returned to tug her lips, "Thanks, sugar." She eyed him briefly, "So… What is with the face tendrils, anyways? Do they stimulate you sexually?"  
As she spoke she reached over and tugged one of Tunaak's chin tendrils, rolling her thumb over the slender and soft tissue. The Draenei's tail whipped up at an awkward angle and curled downwards stiffly, nearly whacking a passing patron across the back. Grimacing, Tunaak grasped the hand over his tendril and breaking the woman's unwanted contact.

Frowning, Tunaak eyed the wench sternly. "Please do not touch," he blinked as his tail slowly returned to its rhythmic bobbing behind him.

Rolling her shoulders, her sleeves inching down her shoulders, the wench never lost her smug smile as she added, "I'd even offer you a discount, sugar."  
A discount? Did she just offer herself to the Draenei! Wynn's eyebrows raised and she couldn't help but snicker quietly behind a raised hand.  
A flicker of agitation must have escaped Tunaak's stoic features. Two men had slowly inched their way near the two, gone unnoticed in the number of patrons that hid them. They eyed Tunaak cautiously, thinking their guild-woman's deal may make a worse turn. Each had a blade at their belt, ready to draw in the event that they need to defend their guild-mate.

Whether or not she wanted to react to the agitation, the wench didn't get the opportunity. Tunaak snorted rudely as his tail flicked behind him in annoyance. He turned away, heading for the door as Wynn blinked before elegantly trailing the dark blue, muscular figure.

Around the corner, Wynn spoke up, "Tunaak…" She hesitated, not quite sure how to appraise the noble Paladin.  
Pausing, Tunaak turned to gaze at Wynn. Though still clearly agitated, Tunaak could not bring himself to lash out at Wynn in any way. She was, after all, the soon to be wife of his close brother. He regarded her as a sister, and loved her as much as a sibling could.  
Tunaak sighed softly, lowering his gaze to the cobblestone street as his eyes radiated apologetically.

With a sudden start from the both of them, two figures dashed into view. The wench from the Pig tripping over herself as a large human male skidded to a halt. The wench whined as she picked herself up and dusted off her loose clothing. She turned to face Tunaak, Wynn, and the large man on the other side of them. A crossbow, a bolt with jagged edges cocked in the string, lay carelessly at her feet.

The man spoke first as he pulled out a pistol, aiming for the wench's left leg. He snickered, "You need to be taught a lesson in going around challenging others to fight, wench!"  
He fired the pistol in his hand, the bullet entering the wench's leg as she cried out in pain. Tunaak cringed. If anything happened to Wynn, Civardi would have his hide as a new hat! The Draenei bolted to the other side of the duelers' line of site, turning to shield Wynn as he tried nudging her away from the fight.

The wench kneeled on her good knee, clutching and raising the crossbow in between sobs. She picked up the weapon to aim at the man. He still held his pistol, still smirking, "You got one shot there, wench. Make it worthwhile!"  
Her hands trembled around the crossbow, aiming hesitantly. As Tunaak nudged Wynn away, he suddenly found the street far too narrow for his liking. It made him nauseous as he eyed the unsteady crossbow. Eyes shutting tight, the wench fired.  
In the split second the bolt flew, Tunaak began to draw a breath. The bolt took an eternity to strike its unintended target.

Tunaak curled his tail as he blinked, inhaling lightly as his tail no longer nudged Wynn away from the dueling pair. As the man slowly lowered his pistol, gazing at the two, Wynn was at Tunaak's side. The wench trembled as she hit the cobble street face first. She lost a considerable amount of blood already, the crossbow clanging on the street.  
Turning to face Wynn and the man, the Draenei took a step back, leaning heavily against the stone wall as he gasped. The bolt protruded from his chestpiece, blue blood leaking without hesitation. The man behind Wynn ducked out of sight towards the wench, and to where, Tunaak no longer cared. His vision blurred as Wynn grabbed his cheeks, the Draenei's hands trembling as he grasped the protruding part of the bolt.

Finding his ability to concentrate retarded from his wound, Tunaak fervently called upon the Light to mend his wound as he attempted pulling the bolt out. The razor sharp edges of the tip made it excruciatingly painful, slicing into new veins and occasionally ones that had just been sealed.  
Wynn spoke, but Tunaak could only stare at her as he slowly pulled out the bolt. His shock and blood loss from the wound was messing with his hearing.

The head of the bolt finally appeared from Tunaak's chestpiece. Wincing with one more surge of pain from moving the bolt, he finally removed it, letting it clack against the street. The Draenei doubled over, gasping with relief as Wynn knelt down and rested her hands on his plated shoulders.  
He should have been feeling better, but he wasn't. His dark skin paled and his breaths came in deep, quivering rasps. Tunaak winced, coughing up blood. He had missed mending something in his chest! Before he could summon the Light to aide him again, -if- he could, he was jerked from the streets by two pairs of strong arms. He was dragged over one of the canal bridges and half way through another district of the city before being deposited before the steps of the Cathedral.

Tunaak looked up to see a muscular human and a Night Elf slightly bigger than the average male of his race. Blinking, and spitting up a few more drops of blood, Tunaak rolled to his back as Wynn crouched next to his left leg. Her hands grasped at his chestpiece as a familiar voice cried his name. It wasn't Wynn who called him, and he rolled his eyes to find the source.  
The muscular human dashed up the steps to the Cathedral as her face came to view. Tunaak whispered her name as the woman's hands grasped onto his cheeks. He blinked away tears – was he crying? No, it was hers, tears flowing down her cheeks and splattering over her hands, his forehead, and his nose.

The human that helped drag him there returned with another Paladin. The Paladin leaned heavily on a silver cane, favoring his right leg. With one look at the Draenei, the Paladin sprung into action. Motioning for the pair who dragged Tunaak to take off the chestpiece, Tunaak found himself breathing slightly easier without the large plate around his chest. The relief didn't last, being dashes away as he coughed up a larger amount of blood.  
Wynn had been pushed aside by the Human, hesitating before surrendering her spot to stand a couple strides away. She couldn't take her eyes off Tunaak, tears welling up in her eyes.

The Paladin coughed, his purple hood covering all but his eyes. Tunaak couldn't take his eyes off the Human that held his cheeks. He whispered her name again as his tail slowly bobbed before relaxing on the street.  
Getting to his knees with strained effort, the Paladin eyed the Draenei. He asked where he was wounded. Wynn started for a moment, almost lost in the horrifying thought of losing Tunaak. She found the words to tell the Paladin, and he nodded wisely in response.

Reaching for a pouch of vials under his purple cape, the Paladin pulls one out. He rips the hole in Tunaak's shirt from where the bolt entered. The skin had not been fully mended, Tunaak hadn't been able to fully close it before collapsing. A few drops from the vial dripped into the wound carefully, and the Paladin replaced it in his pouch.  
The hard cobblestone underneath Tunaak felt like it melted away beneath him. As his body began to numb, he reached up with a trembling hand to touch the woman hovering above him. His eyes radiated passionately, sadness overwhelmed him as his arm dropped to the cobblestone before he could get his hand half way to touch her cheek. The comfort that the Human's warm hands offered on Tunaak's cheeks slowly melted away, ceasing with the feeling in his face.

Civardi hurtled on scene, yanking the reins on his cat to bring the riding feline to an abrupt halt. The cat growled in rebellion, but did not turn on its rider as Civardi leapt to Wynn's side. The Night Elf Rogue was in not in a good mood, eyeing his brother on the street and cursing explosively. Wynn hushed him as the Paladin gave the Rogue a "shut the hell up" glare.

Turning back to Tunaak, the Paladin explained to the party, "I'm going to heal him more properly. Don't worry, I'm experienced." He looks up at the woman over Tunaak's head, eyeing her softly, "Excuse me, miss… But this will be a little bloody."  
She looked up at the Paladin as he pulled out a knife, nodding once as another sob escaped her lips. He cut into Tunaak's chest, blood seeping out profusely. With a wave of a Light glowing hand, the blood seeping out the fresh cut lessened greatly. He cut, waved his hand, cut and waved once more.

Tunaak's primary heart pounded furiously in his chest as the Paladin found what was wrong. The bolt had narrowly missed his heart, but managed to slice one of the large veins leaving the heart. A similar slice revealed before the Paladin at the top of Tunaak's lung.  
Setting the knife to the side, the Paladin fills his hands with the Light. He takes a deep breath and opens his palms to Tunaak's chest. Light pulses from the Paladin's hands, radiating warmly and brightly. The slices in Tunaak's vein and lung slowly seal up as the Paladin begins concentrating on resealing his chest.

Blearily, Tunaak continues to eye the woman over him. There is no feeling in his body, and his hooves feel like they're itching. Pulling out one more vial, the Paladin hands it to the woman, explaining it will nullify the numbing potion he used. He cleans the knife he used on his cape and grabs his silver cane.  
Civardi steps up next to the woman, kneeling and grasping Tunaak's shoulder. The Paladin chuckles softly, struggling to rise to his feet and hobbling a few feet away. The two men that dragged Tunaak there lingered for a moment before shrugging or rolling their shoulders and leaving. So long as the Draenei was going to live, they were content to go back to their business.

"Brother…!" Civardi chokes. He pulls off the shoulder plates, setting them with the chestpiece. Tugging on the broad shoulders, Civardi manages to sit Tunaak up at a shallow angle, the Draenei's head spikes scratching against leather bound arms.  
Gently lifting up his head, the woman's fingers were carefully grasped behind Tunaak's head, careful not to scratch her hand on the sharp spikes. Wynn collapsed to her knees next to Tunaak's left leg, sniffling and eyeing Tunaak with watery eyes.

"Love, drink this…" the woman's breath quivered as she set the open end of the vial to his lips. Tunaak could not feel a thing, and was uncertain if it was even at his lips. A few small drops dripped down his throat, and he ended up coughing vehemently. Though hacked back up, the liquid had done its work, but it only barely began to start.  
The second time the vial was pressed on his lips, he could feel the touch. Though feeling still felt as far off as the sun, he managed to drink a couple drops. The vial away, Tunaak winced and breathed a huge sigh of relief. His hooves still itched like hell, but that would surely go away with the remaining numbness.  
The woman who had held his cheeks sobbed, overwhelmed to see him moving on his own. She wrapped her arms around his ribs, barely able to reach behind his shoulders, and nuzzled his neck affectionately. Her tears poured, wetting the collar of Tunaak's white shirt.

"Keda…" Tunaak sighed, wrapping his arms around the woman. They held each other for a long moment, Civardi and Wynn glancing warmly at each other.  
Keda hiccupped once and relaxed on his chest. The sound of his hearts beating comforted her, the solid triple-thumping sound from both his hearts letting her know he was still alive.

"Tuna," Civardi sternly asked, using his brother's nickname and still holding him up, "Who did this to you?"  
Tunaak tilted his head to eye Civardi. He looked hard into the Kaldorei's eyes, for they had grown very dark. Shadows began engulfing the brilliant amber eyes, consuming the orbs.

"Brother…?" Tunaak asked, almost gasping. He had never seen this in Civardi, and feared for him. Keda looked up, inhaling sharply as her eyes saw what Tunaak did. Wynn eyed Civardi, eyes softening. The Paladin leaning on his silver cane raised a quizzical eyebrow at Civardi, carefully observing the Kaldorei.

"Who did this to you, brother!" Civardi snarled angrily. He snapped his jaws tight, clenching a dagger at his belt with his hand that wasn't helping prop up Tunaak.

Wynn, looking in a haze, answered, "A wench from the Pig. One of the regulars, I think."  
Civardi eyes Wynn for a moment. His eyes were only shadows as he bolted from his spot to his mount. Tunaak winced as he fell back against the cobblestone, yelling after his brother. The wound he had stole nearly all of his strength, and he had so little of it regained. Tunaak reached out in Civardi's direction, yelling for him to stop. His shout was only in vain as Civardi and saber bounded around a corner.

Keda lowered her gaze from Civardi's direction, placing a gentle hand on the big guy's cheek. He hesitated and turned his head to see her. Her eyes glistened, radiating passionately as she touched his nose with hers.  
Tunaak's hearts swelled, raising a hand and finally being able to stroke her cheek with the backs of his fingers.  
Wynn choked, her hip sitting against Tunaak's leg. The Draenei's tail flicked a few times before finding an ankle to curl over.

"Wh-…" Wynn stammered, "What happened to Civardi…?" She curled up slightly, hugging her legs to her chest. Shortly, all of their attention was diverted to a frantic yell from the direction Civardi dashed off to. The wench from the Pig clamored on the scene, sprinting at full speed to the gathered party. She gasped for air, lungs aching and heart pounding frantically.  
She got within ten feet of the party at the bottom of the Cathedral's steps when Civardi bursts around the corner on foot. He gains ground quickly, a dagger poised like a scorpion tail to strike the wench!

* * *

At the Blue Recluse, Tunaak leaned on the back of his chair with his shoulder. Keda rest in his lap, curled up slightly and content in being propped up on the Draenei's chest. She seemed to glow slightly, but for what reason, Tunaak could not discern.  
Arms wrapped around Keda, he squeezed her gently in a reassuring hug. She smiled affectionately, raising her nose to nuzzle his neck as Tunaak's chin appendages splayed around her head. He chuckled softly, pulling off his already half way off jacket to cover her better.

The Blue Recluse was always a lot more calm, the vast majority of drunks preferring the Pig 'n' Whistle over the slightly more uptight tavern keepers of the Blue. For that, Tunaak preferred the Blue Recluse when he was with Keda, not being inclined to risking Keda being the attention of any drunks who would mind her.

"I'm with child, Love," Keda said softly, kissing his neck.  
Tunaak regarded her words for a moment, raising an eyebrow in response as he gently kissed the top of her head. When her words began to fully sink in, his tail flopped over his leg, curling around Keda's waist as far as it would reach. He was going to be a father…?

The tavern spun around him, and Tunaak slumped against the back of the chair, passed out.


	4. He's Right

_He's right…_ Tunaak thought to himself as his ax bit hungrily into another felhound. The demon screamed in agony, its cry in pain gurgling as the last of its breath croaked out. As the demon slumped to the ground dead, a pair of succubus emerged from the ruins of the long lost Draenei city. They snickered smugly, eyeing the large Draenei greedily.  
Their whips slung at their waists were quickly grabbed, pulled up, and lashed out. Tunaak knew far too well their intentions before they would "dispose" of him.

_Civ's right, we are of very different worlds…_ Tunaak's thoughts throbbed in his mind as the pair stepped closer. One of them winked, attempting to probe very intimate memories within the Draenei's mind. Tunaak bared his fangs, growling in defiance as memories of Keda poured through his mind like a swelling river.  
The night they first met, how he had felt when she left for the first time… The night the Prophet himself had blessed them both, and the night at the Exodar when he kept her warm… The evening he finally proposed to her. The day he got shot with a crossbow bolt, her comforting embrace as he was healed… The recent news of their expecting a child…

With another defiant growl, the succubus found the memory she desired. The other pulled her whip up again to strike as memories thundered through Tunaak's mind. The night he first met Keda's adopted human child Kimmy flickered passed his eyes as the whip expertly snapped at Tunaak.  
It was a true strike, or a very lucky one. Blood seeped out from Tunaak's exposed right elbow, Fel energy crackling angrily against the Paladin's Holy skin for several breaths before fully dissipating. The wound sparked with Light as Tunaak focused some of his mediocre healing skills to at least slow the bleeding.

_I can't even protect Keda from such a world,_ Tunaak grimaced as the succubus probing his mind began to intensify. Memories of far more intimacy flooded Tunaak's mind as his senses were overwhelmed, trying to convince him that he was reliving them. He hesitated, drawing back the blade of his ax as the second succubus raised her whip once more.  
He screamed in his mind, watching the whip being flicked once more. He screamed to do something to defend himself, but his senses caught in his memories gripped him, imprisoned him.

_KEDA!_ His mind screamed. He wished he was there with her, on the other side of the Dark Portal. He was instead fighting the Burning Legion who scoured the cosmos and Twisting Nether of life and Light. He fought against the demons that the Destroyer of Worlds used for his unholy crusade. He fought, and even though his contributions were minute, Tunaak fought to help ensure just one more dawn for the Light… and for…

Tunaak growled as the whip cracked against his right thigh, Fel energy exploding on contact. The attack nearly shattered the legging as large cracks seeped Fel energy, the shock of the pulse numbing his thigh. It was all he could do to keep his leg from buckling.  
As his memories of Keda engulfed his mind, he pushed through them. He no longer fought them down as the succubus uprooted them in his mind. Tunaak embraced his memories that reeled in his mind, letting the memories soothe his body.

Twin hearts beating furiously, Tunaak raised his ax as the succubus raised her whip once more. The mental barrage to stir his memories intensified once more. But to the surprise of the demons, he used his memories to fuel the Retribution of the Holy Light.  
Tunaak took the surprise to his advantage… Holy Light burst from his weapon, giving the ax's swing a golden, arched tail. He yelled in the assault, cleaving the succubus in two before she could flick the whip in hand!

The Light engulfed the succubus's body, devouring it hungrily as it was sent back to the Twisting Nether. The mental influences the other had on Tunaak wavered, almost immediately being severed as she saw her sister perish.  
In one fatal swing, she joined her sister.

_Keda…_ Tunaak thought as he caught his breath. His noble steed cantered up to him, the horse nuzzling him affectionately.  
_I may not know Civ's world… But I fight for my family, too…_


	5. Death From Above

**Author's Note:** The reasoning for their death is that the player who RPed them pretty much went back to raiding. I kill them both so that I can get Tunaak's storyline moving again, as it had come to a screeching dead stop.

Be prepared for SOME BLOOD AND GORE. It's not descriptive, but there is a little.

* * *

It happened so very quickly. Tunaak had went to Stormwind to purchase the usual foodstuffs and some various trinkets, and was on his way home. The sun was almost gone in the horizon when he heard an encroaching metallic roar boom and echo behind him. His talbuk bleated, galvanized into a faster pace. Tunaak had only read stories in a small number of books about him, and he could not shake the feeling that this roar came from only one source.  
Deathwing.

He was almost home! Naaru, _please,_ let him get home to his wife and baby daughter! The talbuk strained at a breakneck speed, surprising even Tunaak of her speed as she had never gone this fast.  
The roar came again, much closer. The air seemed to vibrate, even shaking his twin hearts. Heat encroached as Deathwing hurtled through the skies. The monster of a dragon careened over Tunaak, the lone talbuk and rider holding no interest to him.

The talbuk must not have seen the soaring Aspect, as it never ceased its pace or turned. There was a loud crash, and Tunaak could swear he heard a distinct scream before several more. The talbuk bolted around a house, and as its back hooves dug into the dirt, hooves flailed in the air as Tunaak crashed into the ground behind her. The talbuk bolted away from the horrifying sight.  
Rising to his own hooves, Tunaak stared. All thoughts had vanished as he watched Deathwing rise above his home, where both his wife and baby had been. As the Aspect of Death turned to the stabled horses, the beasts screaming to be released, Tunaak fell to his knees, horror englufing his mind at realizing what had just happened to his family... and passed out.

Water splashed on Tunaak's face, and he bolted back to consciousness. A rough human, Tunaak recognized as one of the stable keepers, held a bucket in his hands. He frowns, "You're alive... Good."  
As the Draenei wiped water from his face, he sat up. "Not too fast, there." The man patted one of Tunaak's broad shoulders, tossing the bucket aside callously. "I saw the whole thing."

The whole thing? Oh, gods, no! Tunaak's eyes widened, and was on his hooves in nearly an instant. He wobbled, falling against the building he had passed out next to. The wall supported him just enough to keep him on his hooves.  
"Easy, easy!" The man gripped Tunaak's shoulder, attempting to help steady the Draenei. It would have made little difference, as Tunaak was quite strong and bulky for being a bit shorter than average for his race.

His mind continued to whirl as his talbuk slowly returned. She bleated softly, head lowered and gazing softly at Tunaak. At least the saddle, foodstuffs and various trinkets were still on her. "Oh, Tranq," Tunaak murmured the shortened name: Tranquility. Tranq nuzzled Tunaak with her nose, one arm wrapping around her head and fingers scratching at the side of her head.  
The man patted Tunaak's arm, nodding in reassurance. He left them, likely to find others in more dire need. Not that there would be many, Deathwing having left abruptly after he devoured almost all of the local horses and cattle.

One arm still wrapped under Tranq's head, Tunaak's mind had finally stopped whirling enough to stand. He pushed up on his hooves, chest heaving as he looked over to his home, the only other structure taking any damage was the stable for the horses that were devoured.  
Letting go of Tranq, Tunaak stepped up to the destroyed doorframe, and slowly dropped to his knees. His eyes flicked over the rubble, as if pleading for any sign of the two that had occupied it. He didn't know how long it would take to find both their bodies, he couldn't have been sure if they were together when they died, or if his baby daughter had been put in her crib before Deathwing's arrival.

His eyes came over one of the rails of the crib. Inhaling sharply, Tunaak shoved himself to his hooves and tentatively approached. He gripped a large piece of splintered wood that lay over it, and hesitated. Would he like what he saw...? Shivering, he shoved it to the side.  
Blood and gore spilled over a small mattress. Tunaak gasped, stepped back, and nearly fell as he wobbled and collapsed near the door to the house. He sobbed, biting a hand instinctively, wanting to force what he just saw out of his mind as tears poured out of his eyes. The image wouldn't leave, sticking to his mind's eye like a thorn driven too deep. The shock overwhelmed him, and he passed out once again.

"Hey, wake up," came a rough voice. Tunaak grimaced, eyes blinking open. He heaved a sigh, turning away from the speaker and facing the wall of the small, one room house. His tail curled over a ankle, legs curling underneath him. He shuddered underneath the thin wool blanket, trying to recollect what he had seen just before passing out.  
"You were out for some time, Draenei... What's your name?" A hand gripped his arm as Tunaak's mind recalled the mess he had seen on the crib mattress. He heaved, pushed himself away from the wall, and vomited onto the sheets below him as the speaker exclaimed.

Tunaak shuddered, and his stomach kept trying to throw up more, but nothing came. Only spasms. "Easy, easy!" The hand stayed on his arm, squeezing a little harder. The rough voice had an edge of concern, "What happened...?"  
The toes of Tunaak's hooves clicked against the stone wall as he rolled away from the vomit covered cot, hiccuping and wincing as he fell to his back on the dirt floor. He could only whisper the names of his wife and baby daughter, rasping their names as he heaved again. Everything that meant anything to him... gone in an instant.

Were they gone? Could Keda at least be in hiding, somewhere safe from Deathwing? Warlocks are quite capable of using demons to teleport themselves elsewhere. He hadn't seen her body, perhaps she had stepped out for only a moment- but Tunaak could only sob. She was likely dead as well, maybe near the hearth to check the fire?  
She had to be alive. She had to be! Tunaak pushed himself to his knees, the human with him trying to stop him. His attempt was in vain, as the draenei was too strong. Nor did the human want to make Tunaak strain himself getting up.

He wobbled, falling against the wall, but he still stood. "I must-... find her," he croaked. The human shook his head, "You can't go anywhere yet, fella. You should rest."  
"I must find her!" Tunaak pushed himself to the door, the human perhaps the only thing that kept him from stumbling to the floor. Tranquility was there, the talbuk bleating happily as she cantered to its rider. The human didn't stop Tunaak, holding back as the larger draenei struggled to the saddle. Nudging with his ankles, Tranq turned and cantered away with her rider.

Through Redridge, Duskwood, and Westfall, Tunaak searched what seemed like every nook and cranny for his wife. A month passed, the foodstuffs he had bought that fateful night slowly diminished, and with such little food, so had his body. Slowly, his bulk had deteriorated, skin becoming taught over his bones. Most of his muscles had been lost.  
After a month, Tranquility had wandered with her nearly unconscious rider into Stormwind. Two guards approached, one reaching for the reigns. Tranq instinctively jerked away from the encroaching hand, trained to only follow the direction of her rider.

Tunaak stirred, staring blearily at one guard, "Wh-where..." The guard reaches to Tunaak's shoulder, eyeing the Draenei with a concerned gaze, "Sir, are you alright?" Tunaak could only repeat his one word, the other guard suggesting, "He should be taken to the infirmary." The first guard nodded in agreement.  
"This way," the second guard turned, thought kept his gaze to make sure the talbuk would follow before leading. She did when Tunaak nudged her sides weakly. Half gone, he couldn't quite realize where he was going.

The guards lead Tranq and rider to the infirmary in the Cathedral. Paladins, priests and various attendants went about to their business, most carrying stoic or serious looks and various librams, tomes, or religious decorations. One paladin approached them as they approached the steps, greeting them warmly. He was a large draenei, tall for his race, and every pound lean muscle. His very presence felt ancient, and the Light seemed to radiate off him more brightly than even the Cathedral.  
One look at Tunaak, and the Paladin was swiftly at Tranq's side. He pulled the draenei off the talbuk, Tunaak far too weak to have even resisted. He was a ragdoll in the larger male's arms as he was taken up the steps and inside. The male needed no words to know what to do.

In a private room, Tunaak was lain on a bed, and the male went strait to work. First and foremost, to make sure his heart, lungs, and organs were still strong. So scrawny, Tunaak's body had used up almost all of its stored energy. The male moved on, though unsatisfied with how weak Tunaak was, he needed to check the rest of the Draenei.  
Tunaak wanted to rise and continue his search, but every time he even moved an inch, the larger male would stare him back to his previous position. This male was one that only the most foolish or most dull people would disobey. Tunaak relaxed rather quickly as the Light coursed through his body. He felt comfort, tranquil, and at peace. Things he had been devoid of for what seemed for a very long time.

"Tell me," came the male's deep, baritone voice in their native tongue. "What happened to you, brother?" The male could tell that Tunaak had once been a paladin, though wouldn't inquire just yet. He felt the Light had once graced this much smaller body, but its Holy magics had faded greatly.  
"I-" Tunaak heaved, returning his words in their tongue respectfully. The Light from the male had helped a great deal, restoring some strength to the scrawny Tunaak. "I've been searching for my wife-..." The male glanced at Tunaak quizzically before returning his gaze's attention to the body before him. "My wife-... Deathwing crushed our home just as I was returning." Tunaak shuddered, chin tendrils quivering for a moment after.

The male's eyes softened, genuine sadness radiating from his glowing eyes. "But you never found her?" A sob answered his question, Tunaak gasping a breath before rolling to his side. Tears poured from his eyes as he looked up at the large male.  
The male placed a hand on Tunaak's arm, Light radiating almost blindly from him. "Brother, I wish I could tell you of your wife, I truly do..."

Tunaak's eyes gleamed, "Our baby daughter..." The male's eyes widened, the sadness in his eyes contorting and deepening immeasurably. No baby should die, squished in their own home!  
The male's hand moved to Tunaak's crest out of compassion for his loss. "Brother, allow the Light to give you some respite for what you have been through..." As the Light began to engulf Tunaak's mind, the smaller Draenei's eyes blinked blearily as the Holy magic soothed him to sleep. But his slumber would be fitful, even in the grace of the Light. Tunaak could not shake the memory of seeing his baby daughter in her crib, squished and maimed by the rubble that had crashed down upon her.

Tunaak slept for an entire day, the male and various priests and paladins frequently checking to make sure he was still alive. When he finally did awaken, a young priestess entered with a bowl of broth, sitting next to the bed on a wooden stool. She smiled warmly, a chilling reminder of the familiar smile that had graced the lips of Tunaak's wife. Tunaak could not keep his eyes on her face, turning his gaze to the blanket over his legs as he sat up.  
"Here," came her gentle voice. She lifted the spoon filled with the broth to Tunaak, encouraging him to eat. He waved dismissivly, but the spoon never left. He glanced up at the warm face, leaning heavily against the wall. Tunaak found himself barely able to keep himself sitting up.

The Draenei fell back, his headspikes puncturing holes into the pillow. The priestess winced, setting the spoon back in the bowl as her eyes softened. With a sigh, she rose to her feet and turned to sit the bowl on the stool. A new pillow was quickly retrieved, replacing the old one.  
Picking up the bowl, she tugged the stool closer to Tunaak's shoulders. "You must eat," her soft voice seemed to sneak into Tunaak's ears. He turned his head to see her, the gentle face still smiling warmly. Tunaak gave in, and ate the bowl of broth.

Hoof falls met Tunaak's ears after the priestess left. It wasn't the male from before, but Tunaak did recognize them. Oshkava was there. He was no Draenei, but composed entirely of dead parts. Tauren legs, the shoulders and arms of a Kaldorei, the head of what seemed to resemble a Draenei, and large ram horns circled over his head. By no means was he dead, however, as he ate and breathed like any living creature. Oshkava was quite the spectacle, tendrils dangling down his chin often portraying half of his emotion, curling or flexing or splaying with his facial expressions.

"Tuna...!" Oshkava's voice chimed jubilantly. "Tuna, you look like you need more meat on your bones." Tunaak looked up at the familiar ram-horned male. Oshkava's tendrils curled up to his chin as he thought, splaying back down as he exclaimed, "Pie! And it just so happens I have one!"  
Oshkava hastily rummaged through his bag, humming merrily as he pulled out a covered pan. Pulling the lid open, Tunaak's mouth watered as the sweet smell of blueberry pie claimed his nostrils. His stomach growled for more food as Oshkava pulled a fork out of his bag and stuck it through the crust.

He held the pie before Tunaak, the fork sticking strait out. The Draenei pushed himself to sit up a second time, thankful the broth had given him some strength to do so. His tail had found its way to an ankle as he held the pan.  
"Eat up," Oshkava prodded Tunaak's ribs playfully with a finger.

"Osh," Tunaak whimpered. But Oshkava wouldn't take no for an answer. He crossed his arms, chin tendrils flicking and bobbing over his forearms. "Alright, alright." Tunaak recognized that look, and knew very well he likely wouldn't get out of passing the pie. He took one bite, and nearly devoured the rest.  
The pan empty save for the used fork, Tunaak sighed heavily and lay back again, grateful for the filled belly. He turned his head to eye Oshkava appreciatively.

"Tuna, you need to tell me what happ-" but the change was so sudden, it even took Tunaak a moment to realize what had happened. Oshkava was covered in stone, thick and strong. The being hadn't even realized his sudden alteration, his mouth was open in the middle of a word.  
The being's long, serpentine tail arched behind Oshkava, ending near his thigh, where a totem had hung at his belt. The totem was entirely unaffected. A piece of paper had been stuck to it, reading "Rube Me!"

Curious, Tunaak leaned over the side of the bed and tugged the totem off the being. He examined it, and did as the paper instructed, rubbing a hand over the totem. Oshkava had reverted to his original self as quickly as he had been turned to stone, "-ened to you-..."  
Oshkava blinked at the totem in Tunaak's hands, "Oh it happened again, didn't it?" Tunaak blinked, confused. What had he missed this last month in his desperate search?

The large male paladin that had taken Tunaak into the Cathedral didn't let him go until evening the next day, wanting to make sure the Draenei could at least walk without toppling over in weakness. Tunaak gratefully left the Cathedral, filling his lungs with the crisp evening air.  
Rounding to the back of the Cathedral, Tunaak spotted Oshkava in the gazebo overlooking the cemetery lake. Another draenei was there. Muscles rippled over this Draenei's body, standing around average height. He looked toned, military trained.

Tunaak could not have gotten too far passed the gazebo, Oshkava calling him over. With a big smile from the being, Tunaak was introduced to Andalar and offered to join eating crab cakes. Sitting down, the plate of what was left was pushed Tunaak's way, and they had been quickly eaten.  
"I yet to fatten you up some," Oshkava teased as he patted Tunaak's concave belly. Tunaak grinned, trying to stifle a laugh. Having been stabbed by a poisonous dagger, a very ticklish scar had been left as a constant reminder of the poison that had taken his twin's life.

Andalar grinned and exchanged looks with Oshkava. The agile, military Draenei had been in the tactful spot to hook his arms under Tunaak's. Oshkava's hands dove to tickle at the abdomen.  
Tunaak burst into a fit of laughter, squirming in vain in Andalar's hold. Oshkava beamed warmly, "Tuna, promise me you'll think happier thoughts!"

In his fit of laughter, Tunaak managed, "Alright, alright!" But that wasn't quite enough for Oshkava. As Tunaak's hooves scrapped against the wood planks, Oshkava snickered, "Say it. Say 'uncle'!"  
"Uncle!" came the reply. Satisfied, Oshkava's fingers stopped tickling. Tunaak gasped for air, exhausted after the energy he used. Andalar remained planted where he was, settled in acting as a living chair for Tunaak. Tunaak didn't mind, content for once to just relax, as he would not have been able to sit up on his own.

"I am saddened for your loss," Andalar's voice seemed to hold a constant soft edge. "Osh's told me you lost your wife and child." Tunaak's gaze lowered to the floor, half lost. As his tail curled over an ankle, Oshkava gasped, chin tendrils splaying in the exclamation.  
Oshkava had turned to stone once again! Leaning forward, Tunaak's reach nearly fell short of grasping the totem. He leaned over Andalar's leg as he found himself too weak to sit back again. Thankfully, the 'living chair' pulled him back, one of Tunaak's hands sliding over the totem. This brought Oshkava back, the stone crumbling and flaking off just as quick as it had covered him.

"I think Tuna-fish needs more rest," Oshkava blinked, eyeing the totem in Tunaak's lap. The weak Draenei didn't argue, having spent too much energy laughing to even stand up again.  
Andalar nodded and pushed his own hooves to squat behind Tunaak. With one fluid motion, the muscular Draenei picked up Tunaak, one arm behind his back, the other under his legs. Tunaak grunted with the motion, and passed out.

Tunaak found himself on a firm bed at one of Stormwind's local beds. The early sun shined through the window, illuminating the room with a soft glow. Rising to sit up, the sounds of the Market District's early risers made their business outside.  
The scent of another blueberry pie greeted Tunaak's nostrils and his eyes moved to the small table. There sat a pie, unmistakably one of Oshkava's. A fork stuck strait out of it, and words had been carved into the crust.

"Eat me please Tuna!"


	6. A Soulstone in Time?

**Author's Note: **The Priestess is Alambyl. For the life of me, can't remember the name of the Paladin. Heh. They're overrated anyways. lol  
And if you can't take that as a joke, you lack a sense of humor. =D

**A Soulstone in Time?**  
Tunaak slipped unceremoniously onto the bench inside the Cathedral, a Priestess and a Gilnean chattering nearby. The priestess seemed to be making some deal about the Worgen being topless, but Tunaak had heard only a few words from either of them. He shifted, trying to find a comfortable spot as his tail slipped over a leg and curled in his lap. Finally finding it, he leaned against the wall behind him, head rolling against the stone wall to peer at the various Priests and Fathers quietly making their ways around or murmuring reverently to the alter.  
The draenei had little sleep since his return to Stormwind, and he gained little weight in spite of Osh's constant offers of pies, sweets, and pastries. Tunaak was still recovering from the donuts he ate, having felt like he was mule kicked in the head the next morning. How odd that such pastries acted like a strong hallucinogen to some draenei. He drifted off to sleep, the sounds of a quiet conversation and various murmuring fading in his ears.

Heat. Lots of it. And it was unbearable. Tunaak felt sweat dripping down his face as he glanced around the inside of his home, everything exactly as he remembered before it was crushed by Deathwing. Keda was there, smiling warmly and cradling their baby daughter in her arms. "Sweetie, I thought you were in Stormwind?" Her question caught Tunaak off guard. He stammered, trying to tell her that Deathwing was coming, but no words escaped his lips.  
Keda looked up at him quizzically, "What is wrong?" She stepped up next to Tunaak, Abha cooing up at her father. Tunaak's tail instinctively arched around him as he wrapped his arms around his wife. Abha gripped the end of his tail, tugging it to her mouth and chewing.

The roof suddenly collapsed onto the second floor, the beams almost immediately buckling under the force of it and a monster. Tunaak's gaze jerked up, and he screamed as he pushed both the girls under him to protect them both. His protective embrace was in vain, and he jerked awake to see the Priestess eyeing him softly. The Gilnean she had been conversing with was no where in sight, and a Paladin had joined her.  
"Sir...? Are you alright?" Tunaak stammers over his words, but manages, "I-... I am alright." He huffs a sigh, raising a hand to his chest to reassure himself. It was just a dream...

"You were crying in your sleep," she pointed out. Tunaak gasped softly, raising his hand further to stroke wet stains on his cheeks. The Paladin eyes him quizzically, raising an eyebrow as the Priestess continued, "Will you tell me what happened?"  
Tunaak didn't just want to leave, knowing he would feel terrible to just walk off without answering. "M-my... wife and baby... Were both crushed in our home by Deathwing." He shudders and heaves dryly.

A slender hand rested on his shoulder, "I am so sorry to hear such a loss." Her voice was gentle, and whether it was genuine compassion for his loss or pity, Tunaak could not quite discern. She seemed genuinely sad. The Paladin's eyes softened, nodding, paused, and inquired, "Is there no way to resurrect them?"  
Tunaak hesitates, eyeing him innocently. "My wife was a Warlock, but... I could not find her body-" He heaves again, remembering the mess of blood and gore when he had found his baby, "- and our baby's body is far too maimed and crushed to live again."

The Paladin and Priestess exchange glances. The Priestess speaks, "A Warlock? Then maybe she had a Soulstone somewhere?" The Paladin grins, folding his arms for one hand to stroke his chin. This draenei had a Warlock wife? How peculiar.  
Tunaak inhales deeply, thinking it over. She never mentioned having one, yet she may have one somewhere. Soulstones were one of the most stressed and mastered skills. When working with demons, it was always safe to store your soul before attempting to commune with the more powerful demons. They were unpredictable at best.

Tunaak nods slowly, "I think she may... I should go look for it." He rises to his hooves and grasps the Priestess' shoulder gently. "Thank you, miss..." She nods, smiling warmly to reassure him. Tunaak paused a moment to take in that smile, gaze shifting briefly to the last time his wife had smiled at him when she was alive. He turned, the Paladin moving a step to get out of the way as the draenei left.

The sun was shining brightly, more warmly than when Tunaak had entered the Cathedral as he approached his home. The house was still the same pile of rubble that Tunaak had left it as, the small village more focused on restoring the trashed stables than a house that no longer had residence. Tranq snickered and snorted softly as her rider dismounted near the door.  
Still facing the saddle, he hesitated, patting Tranq's thick neck. The talbuk bleated, shaking her horns at the air. Tunaak slowly turned to his home, inhaling slowly as he stepped up to the doorframe. The crib was still uncovered, but only a stained mattress remained. One of the villagers must have eventually found her after Tunaak had passed out, and buried her. He huffed a sigh of relief that he wouldn't have to see her little body again, though his twin hearts ached for her to be in his arms once again.

But where to find the soulstone? Near the hearth? The chest that was near the bed? How could he even find it in all the rubble? A dull shimmer glimmered near the ruined crib, Tunaak flicking his eyes over the spot when it caught his eye. He blinked, inhaled, and stepped up to the crib. Just barely peeking out of the edge of the mattress, a dark purple stone shimmered again.  
Tentatively, Tunaak went down to his knees and reached for it. How he missed it before was beyond him, but at least he had something of his wife... No, something was off. It didn't feel like it belonged to her, even though he could sense that she did have some part of the soulstone's creation.

A baby's giggle drifted into Tunaak's ears, and the draenei gasped as his fingers wrapped around the stone. It was his baby daughter's soul that was stored in it, Tunaak could feel the baby's soul in it as strong as he had felt her spirit in her own little body.  
Sitting back, Tunaak cradled the stone in his palm. He doubled over as his tail curled over one of his legs, sobbing. He would never be able to hold his wife or daughter again, but at least he could save their baby's soul for another life. How he could ever do that, Tunaak did not know. But he still had something.


	7. Sheltering Innocence

**Author's Note:** I know, I know... this chapter has been changed a couple of times. Ariiah just can't get her race straitened out. Nelf, Draenei, Nelf, Draenei... Trollolol!**  
**

**Sheltering the Unfortunate**

Tunaak shifted on his hooves uneasily. The large burn from a mage's stray fireball covering most of his chest and abdomen was mostly healed, but still had a ways to go. It seemed even the Light refused to help dull the constant searing feeling on most of his front. He slowly came to his own peace with this, most often times with a slow, quivering breath. He had forsaken the Light in the days that followed Keda and Abha's death.  
Since the instant that his deep, personal connection with the Light had severed, Tunaak had thought himself lost in some pitch black corner of the Nether. When he finally came to, he had found himself in the Cathedral, a large male Draenei offering his skills with the Light to help give his body a boost. His body was so deteriorated, that even the male had wondered how he had survived.

A sermon had just finished as Tunaak entered the Cathedral. He had found himself there a great deal of his time if he wasn't doing some light duty for a few coins at the docks. Ever since he started recovering from being severely emaciated, and then nearly had a hole burned through his chest, Tunaak was temporarily taken off the military roster. He had been considered dead for most of the month he had been searching for his late wife.  
The soulstone he had dangling from a chain around his neck shimmered dully as his gaze shifted around the large, main corridor. A Draenei had noticed the shimmer, and he approached with a curious eye. He offered Tunaak a stiff, shallow bow and a warm greeting.

"Hail, brother," he greeted. He had favored one leg on his short stride to Tunaak, and seemed to have his own bandages around his torso under his garments.

"Well met, brother. Do you require assistance?" Tunaak had gone to the Cathedral to pray like so many more times, but would not just leave another that seemed to have attained more serious wounds than himself. He eyed the stranger, and he looked like he was recovering from injuries far worse than a torched chest.

The stranger shook his head, "No. I just noticed your..." he hesitated, seeming to think on what he should say a little more. "Your soulstone?" He meant, if it was Tunaak's soul stored in it. Instinctively, Tunaak reached to gently caress the stone between a thumb and forefinger. He takes a deep breath, slowly releasing it through his mouth.

"It does not contain my soul..." With a perplexed and more curious look from the stranger, Tunaak continues. "It is my baby daughter's." The stranger's eyes widen, shocked to hear such. "Her body was far too-"  
Tunaak froze, his tail twitching uncontrollably behind him. "Far too maimed and crushed..." he whimpered.

The stranger grasped Tunaak's shoulder and squeezed, "Brother... I know not how your baby's soul came to be stored in a soulstone, but I would ask that you release her from it. The fel magics used for the stone are evil, and will corrupt her."  
Tunaak choked on his next words, making them unintelligible. The stranger continued, seeming more reassuring, "When you find a suitable body, come see me. I will help you in transferring the soul, brother. When you need me, just ask for Zenarai. I am almost always around the Cathedral."

Tunaak sobbed and chewed his lower lip. His gaze softened, radiating a mixture of love and hurt. "Thank you..." Zenarai nodded, offering one more squeeze on Tunaak's shoulder before turning and limping away.  
As his gaze wandered once more, Tunaak sighed softly. He stepped up to the altar, knelt to one knee, and clasped both his hands together to rest his crest on his thumbs. He prayed.

"Naaru..." he whispered under his breath. "My Light to the Naaru, their Light to give all salvation. I implore, should this be the last I could ever ask, please help my baby daughter. Her soul knows not her own risk of corruption and damnation... Naaru, please do not let her suffer."  
He whimpered the last words, and whether or not the nearby Acolytes heard, they didn't pay him any mind. Tunaak rose to his hooves, shifting to shake the uncomfortable feeling of kneeling. He sighs softly, patting the bandages under his grey shirt to inspect them. The bandages were getting loose again, and likely soiled since being applied several days before.

Glancing around, Tunaak spots another of his people just entering the Cathedral. Eyeing her a little closer, Tunaak could feel she was graced by the Light. What caught his eye to her, he could not discern. The draenei caught his gaze, their eyes locking to what Tunaak felt like hours, but was only a few heartbeats. Those eyes were graced with the Light, and glowed a lustrous cyan. She smiled softly, approaching Tunaak. Her hooves clicked on the stone so softly, Tunaak didn't hear her hoof-falls until she was less than fifty feet away.  
She offered Tunaak a warm smile and a polite bow, greeting him in their native tongue. Tunaak could only stammer a greeting in return, responding politely in their tongue.

"I noticed you were patting your chest tenderly," she spoke calmly. "Are you wounded?"

Blushing lightly, Tunaak nods, "I was... but it is almost healed..." In her gentle voice, the Draenei asks him to remove his shirt for her to get a better look. Hesitantly, Tunaak obliges. She gasps as her eyes gaze over the carelessly bandaged draenei. She insists on redressing the wounds more properly, and though Tunaak shifted sheepishly, they moved to a more secluded place in another room.  
Settling down on one of the hard, stone benches, Tunaak shifted so she could unwind the bandages with the least amount of trouble. "I am Ariiah," her voice chimed gently. As her hands brushed against his skin, taking off the bandages, Tunaak blushed, returning the polite introduction with his name. The patches of skin that still weren't fully healed seeped a liquid that made both Draenei wrinkle their noses.

"Oh, my...!" Ariiah gasped. At least there were less than half a dozen oozing spots. Sighing, Tunaak raised one hand, focusing on the soothing healing magics of nature. As his hand began to glow a gentle green, Ariiah offered her own healing abilities, raising both of her Light glowing hands. Tunaak barely began his own efforts to cleanse the seeping wounds when he stopped.  
The Light that graced Ariiah's hands felt so familiar. Was it from the same Gift the Naaru had graced their race? He missed the Light's touch, and gratefully welcomed hers, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he relaxed. Ariiah's eyes softened. Though she finished fairly quickly, she paused, allowing the Light to touch the male's chest for a few moments before stopping the spell.

"The Light... once graced your body..." Ariiah's observation didn't shock Tunaak. He nodded, closing his eyes.  
After a brief, silent moment, Tunaak explained, "I-... was a Paladin..."

"Was...?" Ariiah grasped his shoulder gently. She seemed perplexed as to why he is no longer a warrior of the Holy Light.  
Tunaak nodded slowly, huffing a soft sigh. The soulstone on the necklace he wore shimmered dully, and this did not escape her attention. Ariiah gazed at the stone, and looked back up at Tunaak. The look in her eyes were very perplexed. She didn't seem to know what to think.

"This," Tunaak opened his eyes again, gazing into Ariiah's and locking their eyes again. "This stone contains the soul of my baby daughter... Her mother was a Warlock, and I seek a way to redeem her little soul..."  
Ariiah's gaze saddened. "Oh, Tunaak... I am so sorry."

Tunaak reached up to grasp the slender hand over his shoulder, "It is no fault of your own... It is mine." He hesitated, then sighed. Might as well be out with it, right? "I have prayed for many weeks. Months, now, I think, since they both died."  
The slender hand grasped his shoulder more firmly as he continued, "Deathwing crushed our home as I was returning, and I found this soulstone in the rubble." Tunaak shudders, choking down a sob. "She will need a body to live in before she becomes too corrupted by the stone's fel magics."

As the next several weeks passed by, Tunaak and Ariiah became close friends. Their bond seemed to strengthen with the passing days, but seemingly more-so with the time spent in Stranglethorn Vale and Booty Bay. Ariiah had answered a summons to assist in the Nessingwary Encampment, and Tunaak had wanted to study some of the flora found only in that area.  
The surprise of seeing the other was very pleasant for both. They were done with their duties or studies before the sunset. As the bonfire was started for the night, they sat at one of the surrounding wood benches.

Ariiah began the conversation, "This is a beautiful jungle." She smiled warmly, taking a deep breath to enjoy the fresh, jungle air. There was a very faint scent of the ocean that seemed almost unnoticable.  
"It is," Tunaak grinned widely. "It's as dangerous as it is beautiful." He chuckles softly, wrapping an arm around Ariiah's shoulders. He squeezes her gently, reassuringly, "I hope you are warm?" The fire had just started as he asked, illuminating and warming them both.

She chuckles, and muses, "I am warmed by the fire." She peers at Tunaak, giving him a teasing nudge with her elbow. Tunaak blushes lightly, and nods.

The next several days in Stranglethorn seemed to be just mere moments with Ariiah. Tunaak enjoyed every chance he had with her, both eventually becoming nearly inseparable by the time they were due back to Stormwind. Their time together could not last, however. Ariiah was due in the Western Plaguelands in a few more days, and Tunaak's presence was requested in Hyjal.  
As the sun was setting behind the Cathedral, Tunaak and Ariiah strolled through the cemetary.

Ariiah finally spoke up during their quiet stroll, "Tunaak... have you found someone to shelter your daughter's soul yet?"  
Tunaak's gaze turns to the path before them, blushing sheepishly. "I-... have not..." He knew he needed to find someone to protect her until a new body could be found for her. Someone that wasn't going to corrupt her soul, whether intentionally or not.

Ariiah stops their stroll, raising a hand to his cheek so she could lock eyes with his. "I have thought long about her soul..." Her eyes soften, "I know just the one to look after her. She is a Death Knight, one of our kind."  
Tunaak's hand reaches and gently grasps the slender hand over his cheek. "Ariiah... It can't be a Death Knight. The magics that animate them is no more than an offshoot of fel magics."

The young female hesitates, eyes radiating apologetically. "I am sorry, I-" But Tunaak interrupted her, "It is alright, Ariiah, you meant no offense."  
Tunaak wrapped his arms around her reassuringly, giving her a gentle hug. Ariiah stepped into the warm hug, resting her chin on one of his shoulders. The soulstone still hanging on Tunaak's necklace shimmered dully, a baby's giggle radiating softly from it before it returned to its usual inactive state.

Tunaak breaks the hug, peering down at Ariiah. As she offers a perplexed look, his eyes glowing in deep thought. Tunaak breaks the brief silence, "Ariiah, will you-... shelter her?"  
Ariiah gasps softly in surprise. "Tunaak... are you sure...?"

"I can think of no other," Tunaak confesses. "You may not be a Paladin, but still very much a strong fighter of our people. I am... not so much anymore, it would seem."  
Ariiah stared at Tunaak, taking her turn to think. Tunaak does not move, waiting patiently for her response. Finally, she nods, and Tunaak seems greatly relieved. He hugs her jubilantly, "Oh, Ariiah...!"


	8. Blackbane and Lyonhart

**Author's Note: **Changed just one "little" detail... Ariiah's a Draenei. Yup, she had a race-changeroo...**  
**

**Blackbane and Lyonhart  
**

As the young Human priestess rose to her feet, slender hands clasped over her abdomen, she turned to the large entrance of the Cathedral. Her deep brown eyes caught the figure of a very slim male Draenei just stepping into the main corridor from a side room. She smiled warmly, recognizing the male, and approached.  
"I see you have made an exceptional recovery."

Tunaak returns the smile softly, "I have, miss... And a grateful thank you is in order for the broth you forced down my throat." He chuckled teasingly and gave her a sly wink.

The Priestess chuckles with him, hands raising to cover her mouth. "It has been quite a while, sir. I hope you have been doing very well?" She was genuinely hopeful, hands lowering over her chest as she inquired.  
Tunaak nods, tail whisking lively behind him. "I have, very well. Much has happened, also... If you remember that soulstone with my daughter's stored soul, she is reborn. All thanks to a wonderful woman. She birthed twins, too! Twins!"

A warm smile beamed on her face as Tunaak prided how beautiful the fraternal twins were; one that looked more like their mother, and the other that looked more like their father. The young woman listened intently, soaking in every word. Tunaak finally finished, "Oh, how rude, I never introduced myself. I am Tunaak."  
The Priestess smiled warmly, her dark skin radiating softly with the Light, "I am Anna Blackbane. A pleasure to finally know your name." Anna bowed respectfully.

Tunaak returns the bow politely, "Such a beautiful name, Miss Anna. I do not wish to part so suddenly, but I must get back to my wife and babies. Ariiah will soon worry if I do not return." Anna bows, genuinely grateful for the chance she had to listen to Tunaak's recent goings on. He departed after returning the bow with a polite nod.  
Turning to the altar, Anna slowly strode to the regal steps that held the altar high enough for all in the main hall to see. She lowered to her knees, clasped her hands over her chest, and prayed to the Light and Elune.

The next day was a black nightmare. Darkness, smoke, very loud noises and blood filled Anna's senses. She cried out to stop, but it didn't. There was only darkness. Every loud blast was met with smoke that stung her eyes and nose. Every blood curdling scream was met with the gut wrenching taste of fresh blood and flesh. Anna could not see, but she felt the horrible, tenacious ferocity of the Worgen.  
A Worgen unleashed, frenzied and in a blood-craze.

There was no escaping this form. Once it was out, it would not stop until its lust for blood and chaos was sated... or it would die trying.  
A rifle clicked and fired. The bullet entered the Worgen's shoulder, stinging both the Worgen and the frightened human held captive inside. The Worgen howled in agony and fled, its human grateful that it at least knew when to flee a battle it could not win.

Rain poured as the wary worgen made its way to the Eastvale Logging Camp in Elwynn. It was almost completely dark, the stumbling silhouette moving unnoticed as black fur smudged her figure into the darkening background. Her shape slowly diminished to the familiar human shape she knew better than her cursed form.  
Anna stumbled into the door of one of the camp's few residential houses. She cried hard, her eyes becoming red very quickly. One of the occupants must have heard her body hit the door, as the figure of a familiar draenei soon filled the doorframe... and Anna knew no more.

The nightmare seemed to drag on in Anna's dreams. Only, she could see what she was doing. People ran in panic as muscular, furry and clawed arms stretched out before her and lashed at flesh. Her eyes widened as she saw a muzzle, her muzzle, dig into a man's arm, nearly severing the limb from his body. His scream came loud and clear, ringing in her mind even after she left the man to lash out and snap at more humans, dwarves, night elves and a few draenei.  
Many fought back, but they were no match for her raw rage and hatred. She plowed into and tore at everyone. Until, finally, a dwarven sharpshooter clicked his rifle... and the gun boomed and echoed in her mind.

Anna jerked awake, shouting incoherently. Ariiah and Tunaak were there, both snapping startled gazes to the sudden surprise. Two babies were cradled in Ariiah's arms as Tunaak quickly strode to Anna and grasped her arms. "Miss Anna...? Miss!"  
Anna inhaled sharply, gasping at Tunaak as she snapped out of her nightmare state. She stared at Tunaak, slowly realizing where she was. Anna glanced to Ariiah apologetically, "Ma'am... I am truly sorry." She was afraid she had scared the babies, but neither of the twins were startled, sleeping happily in their mother's arms.

Beaming warmly, Tunaak gestured to Ariiah, "This is my mate I had been telling you about. Ariiah. She holds our twins, Abha and Vyrii." Anna gazes at Ariiah and the twins, awe showing in her eyes.  
"Such beautiful babies," Anna chuckled softly, albeit with an unnerved edge. Waking so soon from such an intense nightmare will take her a moment to regain herself.

Proudly shifting on his hooves, Tunaak chuckles warmly, "How about some food? You've slept hard all night and half the day." Anna looks up at him, gaze softening as a gentle smile tugs her lips. She nods, genuinely grateful for the offer.  
As the afternoon progressed, Anna eventually offered to help Ariiah around the house when Tunaak had to answer a summons from the spirits to heal a part of Azeroth. Spirits have been calling to him and many other Shamans and Druids, pleading to help aide the land that Deathwing had been ravaging.

Anna stayed at their house for a few more days, recovering from getting shot in the shoulder. She was inquired what happened, but she could only give the same vague answer: "I... can't remember what happened. It was too dark." After feeling well enough, she concluded she would return to Stormwind's Cathedral. Some of the other Priests and Paladins would likely worry about her absence.  
She was welcomed back warmly with many thanks to the Light by the small collection that she befriended. Anna did her best to hide her wounded shoulder, thankful that none noticed when it completely healed over the next week.

The sun shown brightly overhead as Anna made her way to the gazebo behind the Cathedral. It was empty, save for a lone Night Elf sitting at one of the benches. Letting him to his peace, Anna picked her own bench on the other side of the path that led to the gazebo. Anna loved this spot in Stormwind. The birds chirped in the trees nearby, the potted flowers always smelled fresh and beautiful, and the lake tossed gently in its bed.  
Clasping her hands over her chest, Anna closed her eyes to enjoy the sounds and smells. It was always comforting, hoping that she would one day return to Darnassus. Almost immediately arriving at Rut'theran after Gilneas fell, the collection of worgen on the boat were sent to the Howling Oak behind the Cenarion Enclave. There, they congregated one last time before departing to the corners of Azeroth. After making her own leave, Anna vowed to return one day as she looked back from the ship that took her to Stormwind.

Careful hoof falls met Anna's ears after a while. She opened her eyes slowly and turned her gaze to the draenei as he made his way to the gazebo. Smiling softly, Anna spoke up, "Afternoon, sir."  
The draenei turned, a nervous smile stretching his lips, "H-hi..." He waved casually to the Priestess.

Anna chuckles softly, "A beautiful place, isn't it?" He nods, smile warming a little. "Would you like to join me? Such places are meant to be shared."  
With an uncertain nod, he settles down on the bench next to the slender lady. He does not immediately speak, clearing his throat hesitantly.

"Don't be shy," Anna reassures him, "I don't bite."  
With a more confident nod, "I am flattered someone would want me to sit with them."

Anna raises a slender hand to her mouth with a soft giggle, "Why would they not want to be around you...?" Her question was innocent, genuine compassion radiating in her eyes.  
He cleared his throat, "I, uh... it's a long story." He looks away, nervously eyeing the grass at his hooves.

"If you have the time, sir, I am willing to listen." He looked at her quizzically, surprise clearly showing in his gaze. Anna nodded, reassuringly. "I have nowhere to be. And besides, you look like you may need to talk."  
He slowly nodded, "Alright... but, my name is Richard. Richard Lyonhart."

Anna is the one that looks surprised this time, "Your name... does not sound at all like a draenei name..."  
Richard nods, "It isn't. It's human. I was raised by humans after my, uh... Cryo-pod I think they called it, fell on the shore of Westfall. An elder couple found me there." As Richard continued, he explained he had been raised by the elder couple for several years. One day, a passing Night Elf priestess had passed through their farmstead, and nearly caused a panic. The Night Elf told the elders that the boy they found belonged to a very evil race called Eredar. Denying such claims, though unwilling to let the Night Elf flat out kill the little Richard, a young Paladin was summoned from Stormwind to resolve the issue.  
The Paladin came, and after carefully observing the young Richard, found no traces of fel magics or evil workings on the lonely alien. The Night Elf reluctantly agreed, having also came to the same conclusion in her own observations of the infant. If the Eredar did mate, then they would certainly have left very obvious evil magics on the child.

For almost five years, Richard grew on the farm with the elderly couple. However, as he was getting old enough to be out with friends, he quickly learned none of the other children on nearby farms would want to play with him. For what seemed like a very long time to the youngster, he had been rejected every time he hoped to play with the other kids.  
Eventually, the elderly couple could no longer take care of him, and surrendered him to Stormwind's Cathedral. At first, Archbishop Benedictus had no clue what to do with him. The spry, young alien was certainly something very different than anything he had ever had to manage. Benedictus soon had an idea, however... After speaking with the Paladin that had been summoned to Westfall, the Archbishop took Richard to one of the Paladin trainers and instructed him to teach the youngling. Vindicator Argonus readily agreed, although had eventually taken a disdain to Richard and eventually abandoned the training.

Anna listened intently, taking careful note of everything. She rested one of her slender hands on his forearm, the other hand clasped in her lap. "Your story... is very saddening. But it must be very nice to meet another draenei at long last."  
Richard's gaze returned to the grass. "I... don't know. Some of them are real nice, but most... seem to reject me. I was raised by humans who didn't want me."

The gentle hand over his forearm squeezed, the grasp a little stronger than expected. Richard looked back up at her as Anna tried to reassure him, "But... there are at least some who accept you... Right?"  
Richard's gaze was uncertain, "I don't know..." He sighed heavily. "Some of the other Draenei once brought me to the Exodar to teach me my native tongue. I tried, but my people's tongue is rather complex. Light, even Vindicator Argonus disowned my after a few years of training me."

Anna gasped softly, "Argonus...? What nerve a Paladin, a _Vindicator_, would have to disown anyone. And a fellow Paladin at that!" She looks up at Richard with resolve, "He should be denounced to at least a position that can't train others."  
Richard's gaze turned to Anna's eyes. She was sincere. She was honest. Was she accepting him for who he was...? Richard hesitated, the slender hand on his forearm patting him gently, reassuringly. A stranger was accepting him...


End file.
